Through My eyes
by moreofthesame
Summary: Hermione and Minerva have been married for a few decades now. Hermione is in her 50's; adjusting to the changes her body goes through as she ages. One day, Minerva sees her wife looking disapprovingly in the mirror…


**Disclaimer: **The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and a bunch of others who can profit from this amazing story, I just do it for fan:) 

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><p><strong>Through My Eyes<strong>

She sighed again, about to turn away from the bathroom mirror to get her clothes when a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist. She gave her wife a half smile through the mirror, turning to face her, but the arms around her waist tightened to hold her still. She searched the mirror for Minerva's eyes, a questioning look on her face.

"I've seen the look on your face just a moment ago."

Hermione sighed, of course she did, there wasn't much that could escape her wife's watchful eyes.

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?" Minerva's tone was light, questioning yet confident. _She had a way of asking uneasy questions_, Hermione thought. There was one advantage to her wife's casual tone, tough. It meant she could try and spin this to another, less serious, topic.

"Well, right now I see my beautiful wife, a sight I much rather view with my own eyes, preferably from a closer point of view, if you'll allow me." She made another attempt at turning, hoping her wife will drop the subject. Minerva, however, thought differently.

"You know what I meant, dear. What were you thinking just a moment ago, when you were here alone looking at the mirror?" She tried as hard as she could to keep the frustration out of her voice. This wasn't a subject they usually discussed, at least not when it came to Hermione getting older. She had her fair share of doubts and insecurities in the beginning of their relationship, knowing how unattractive her much older body was in comparison with Hermione's. But Hermione spent hours telling her how beautiful she thought she was, and somewhere along the way Minerva's insecurities disappeared. She wasn't totally happy with how she looked, but it didn't bother her as much as it used to anymore. And apparently it was time to return the favor. She knew Hermione wouldn't breach the subject herself, she was probably afraid it would bring her old insecurities back to the surface.

"It's no big deal, Min, really. I just…" Hermione trailed off, not sure if she wanted to finish the sentence, giving a spoken admittance to the truth that stared at her from the mirror.

"You just noticed how much your body has changed in the last several decades, and you don't like it." Minerva's voice was soft, her breath tickling Hermione's ear as she spoke, her eyes locked on her wife's through the mirror.

Hermione closed her eyes at her wife's words. Of course Minerva knew what was bothering her, but hearing it out loud made it that much more real, and it meant she'd noticed, too.

"Do you mind if I tell you what I think when I look at you?" the question was followed by a soft kiss on her temple, prompting her to open her eyes and lock them with Minerva's reflection again. There was no way out of it now, she might as well let her wife continue and be done with it. Without breaking eye contact, she nodded her approval.

She felt her wife's hands moving, her left encircling her waist, pulling her closer while her right went up to her face, fingers tracing the lines they found there.

"I look at these laugh lines, right here" she move her fingers over the lines next to Hermione's eyes, "and I know we had a good life together, that I made you happy, and I pray that I could keep you happy for many years to come."

"And these, up here" Hermione felt a ghost-like touch on her forehead, "tell me that you cared enough to lay awake at night and worry, and tough I wish I could take all your worries away, I am glad to see those too."

"Min…" Hermione's discomfort was evident through her voice, "I get what you're trying to do, and I love you for it, but there really is no need. My body is… the way it is, and there's nothing I can do to change it anyway. Let it go, please."

Minerva's heart tore at the sight of her wife's pleading, teary eyes, but she knew from experience there was just one way to make it go away.

"I'm not done yet, dear." She wiped away a tear from her wife's face and took a deep breath before continuing. "You probably also noticed these two have been yielding to gravity lately." Both her hands moved to cup Hermione's breasts, invoking a surprised gasp from her wife, and she went on massaging them for a few moments, until Hermione's appreciative moans could be heard clearly. "Well, they match mine now, and are no less enjoyable than before."

She smiled when she heard Hermione's quiet protest as her hands left her wife's breasts and moved down to the stretch marks on her belly. "Now, I know for a fact that these had been bothering you for a couple of decades, and they aren't getting prettier with time. But those right here are the evidence to the existence of our daughter and two sons, a true wonder I thought I would never experience. When I wake up at night, unsure whether it was real or just a dream, it is your bally that bears witness to my dream coming true."

Minerva could see the tears resurfacing in her wife's eyes and tightened her arms around her, hugging her closer. "Don't cry, dear. It is a good thing." She deposited another kiss on her wife's temple, about to continue, when Hermione made another attempt at turning around. This time, however, she let her. Hermione's hands cupped her face just as their eyes locked, this time without the mirror serving as barrier.

"You, have the most amazing way to make me feel good about myself, but it doesn't change what I see when I look at the mirror. I am getting older, and it shows on the outside. I don't regret a moment I lived, but it would be nice if some of these changes weren't happening as fast as they are." A ghost of a smile passed on her lips as she closed the few inches between them and gave her wife a soft kiss.

"What is it that bothers you most?" Minerva wasn't sure what made her ask that question. Curiosity, obviously, and a wish to maintain the conversation as well. They usually talked freely on most subjects, but this one has been their taboo up until now. She wished to keep it going for as long as possible, seize the opportunity and make something more of it, a new understanding, new intimacy.

"I… It's stupid, really." She looked up at her wife, wishing she'd understand and let this one go.

"Nevertheless." Minerva's unyielding stare bore into her eyes with an alarming intensity, pleading with her to open up.

"I just wish my hair wouldn't turn white as quickly as it is. I know it shouldn't matter, really but it's just…" she trailed off. Not sure she wanted to finish that thought and sent a worried look to her wife.

"Just what?"

"It's just that my hair is already way whiter than yours. There are over 40 years between us yet you look younger than me… I don't know why it matters this much to me, it shouldn't really…"

"If it's any consolation to you, the entire wizarding world is well aware of my age. I'm sure no one thinks I'm younger than you, regardless of your hair." As if by instinct she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her wife's ear and was rewarded with a half-smile.

"I know, it's not that, I just… I don't know." Hermione nodded her head helplessly, unsure how to finish her thought.

"Are you afraid I might find you less attractive, now that the difference in age between us is less noticeable?"

Hermione was quiet for a long moment; it seemed to take every bit of her Gryffindor courage to ask her next question. "Do you?"

Minerva took a moment to look closely at her wife's face. She had no doubts about her answer, but she needed Hermione to see it reflected in her eyes. "I find you more attractive with every year passing by."

Looking deep into mocha eyes, Minerva could see the fear ebbing away with each passing moment, making room for something else, a look she was quite familiar with. It didn't surprise her when she felt Hermione's lips crashing onto hers, but there was something else behind it, a kind of neediness her wife didn't usually portray. She thought about it for a moment, but then Hermione's tongue slipped past her lips and all thought ceased to exist.

"Take me to bed" Hermione's voice was hoarse with want, sending shivers through Minerva's body, and she was more than happy to oblige, picking up her wife and carrying her to their bedroom. 

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><p><strong>AN: **I marked this as complete, but there's another chapter or two I'm thinking of adding to it. It's not written yet, since I'm still thinking it over. I'd like to hear your thoughts... 


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